Listening with the Heart
by DemonicSymphony
Summary: A glimpse into profoundly deaf Sherlock's life with his partner Victor Trevor.


Sherlock moved through the flat, hanging fairy lights. He caressed the cello in the corner of the room as he passed. His mobile buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, checking the message.

_On my way home, is Thai alright? - Victor_

A smile lit up his face as his fingers flew across the keys.

_Thai is always alright. By the way, John texted earlier. He and his newest want to have dinner next week. -S_

When he finished hanging the lights, Sherlock looked around the flat, reveling in the soft glow. The flashing red light over the door let him know someone was coming through the main entrance and he moved to open a bottle of wine. Sherlock kept his face to the door so he would know when Victor came through.

Sherlock tilted his head when Victor appeared, after a moment his hands moved as he signed. 'You cut your hair.' He watched Victor laugh and nod as he put down the food before answering.

'I did. Never can get anything past you. Was your day alright? I brought your favorite. Extra spicy, extra shrimp, extra tofu.' Victor's hands were still clumsy around some of the words, but Sherlock beamed at him.

'You've been practising without me again. Have you been sneaking off to see John?' Sherlock poured them both a glass of wine as Victor started plating food for them.

Victor nodded and winked as Sherlock continued. 'I knew that new shirt would look good on you.' Sherlock admired the way the salmon color contrasted against the dark brown of Victor's skin.

'I still can't believe pink looks good on me.' Victor teased.

Sherlock's gestures were slightly wild as he answered. 'It's not pink! It's salmon!' He crossed the room to put both hands on Victor's chest as Victor laughed long and deep before capturing Sherlock's lips in a slow, gentle kiss.

He tapped Sherlock on the nose when he pulled away so Sherlock could focus on his face as he spoke. "You are so predictable."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but grinned and nodded to the table. He merely signed 'Eat' before sliding into his chair, the grin still on his face.

Dinner was a silent affair to outside observers, but Sherlock and Victor were adept at communicating volumes with a look. When they were finished they leaned against one another at the sink and washed dishes, Sherlock shooting Victor a dirty look when the good plate clanged on the side of the sink.

He arched a brow as he read Victor's lips as Victor winced and spoke, "Sorry, hoped you wouldn't feel that."

When they retired to the living room, Victor smiled as he looked around. 'It looks wonderful, darling. Thank you.'

'You're welcome, did you get the new sheet music?' Sherlock asked as they relaxed in their chairs.

Victor nodded. 'I did… do you want me to play it?'

Sherlock's face lit up and he nodded, causing Victor to gather the new music, then the cello. Victor was settled once more and Sherlock sat on the floor in front of the cello. He put his hands low on the polished wood when Victor began to play. Victor watched Sherlock close his eyes as he felt the music.

The two of them sat like that as Victor practised for his job with the London Philharmonic. The notes filled the flat at Baker Street for nearly an hour before Victor stopped, looking down at Sherlock. He set his bow aside and reached out, sliding a hand through Sherlock's dark curls in a tender touch.

There was a smile on Sherlock's face as he looked up and leaned into Victor's hand as it slid down and cupped his cheek.

"You are beautiful." Victor said as he gazed down at Sherlock before taking his hand away, letting the cello lean against him as he signed it for emphasis.

Sherlock pushed to his feet and kissed Victor in thanks before helping him put away the cello. He handled it with a tenderness that Victor admired. When they were finished, Sherlock beckoned Victor to him. He wrapped his arms around Victor's neck starting to kiss him. A few minutes in, as the kisses grew heated, Sherlock looked confused as Victor pushed him away gently.

Victor pointed to Sherlock's mobile on the table, vibrating its way across with a picture of Lestrade on the front.

'Work, call John?'

Victor slid his mobile out of his own pocket and wiggled it as he punched a few buttons while Sherlock read over the texts Lestrade sent him and responded. He looked up to Victor and signed the address for him to tell John. 'Have him meet me there? I love you.'

As Victor relayed the news he leaned in and kissed Sherlock goodbye. He grinned as Sherlock swanned out of the flat, donning his Belstaff like a suit of armor.

Sherlock met John at the crime scene and waved. He looked up as Sally Donovan came across the pavement.

She arched a brow and signed 'Freak'.

He grinned to her and signed back in slow movements, 'How's Anderson liking the sofa?'

John watched as Sally laughed and patted Sherlock on the back, a quick 'Thank you' from her before she started explaining the case. He stood in Sherlock's line of sight so he could catch anything from John that he didn't understand.

Greg met them where the body was stretched out and Sherlock went to work. John and Greg made small talk as they watched Sherlock walk around the body, inspecting things. When he leapt up, Greg grinned.

"He's going to be going too fast for me to keep up… I can already tell."

Sherlock launched into his explanation with John watching and telling Greg everything aloud for Sherlock. Soon he was beaming as Greg's face lit up and a quick 'thanks' was signed. Sherlock looked to John. 'Glass of wine at Angelo's?'

John nodded with a smile, letting Sherlock lead the way.

Sherlock was going through the Fibonacci sequence in his head when he felt the vibrations on the floor. He looked up to see Mycroft tapping his umbrella on the floor so as not to startle Sherlock. With a heavy sigh Sherlock asked. 'What do you want?'

Mycroft smiled as he returned, 'Mother wants to know if you and Victor are coming for Christmas dinner. It seems John has already accepted the invitation.'

With a scowl Sherlock nodded. 'We'll be there. Victor has already made me promise. Go away.'

From inside his coat, Mycroft drew out a package and put it on the kitchen table. 'Look this over, let me know if you'll take the case. You won't even have to leave the flat.' With that he was gone, greeting Victor on his way out.

Sherlock's face lit up when he saw Victor. He crossed the room and allowed himself to be wrapped up in his arms. As he looked up at him he leaned up, kissing him slowly.

Victor dropped his briefcase and shrugged out of his coat before wrapping Sherlock in his arms and kissing him back. When they parted he smiled and asked, 'How was your day?'

'Bloody Mycroft brought a case. Says I don't have to leave the flat.' Sherlock's gestures were agitated as he sat down on the sofa.

'I'll make you tea. Will you eat something?' Victor asked before stroking a hand through Sherlock's curls.

'Boring… Toast, with jam.' Sherlock answered.

Victor chuckled, patting Sherlock's head before busying himself with Sherlock's order. He glanced over to find Sherlock starting to flip through the file and shook his head. A few eggs, some cheese, and ham were all tossed in a pan. "Have to feed you now or you'll not eat for days," Victor muttered to himself.

He texted John a quick 'thanks'.

Sherlock looked up when he smelled the food, catching Victor texting and smirked. 'You're thanking John again, aren't you?'

With a roll of his eyes Victor beckoned Sherlock to the table. 'Of course I am. He's the one who pushed us back together and taught me the proper care and feeding of Sherlock Holmes.' He paused and grinned before adding, 'Plus there was the whole getting me off murder charges.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'Preposterous. You wouldn't murder anyone… especially for your place on the Philharmonic. You earned your place there.'

Victor put food on their plates and leaned in, kissing Sherlock's forehead. He settled in his seat with a smile. 'I know this, and thank God you knew it… They meant to pin that cold case on me. You and John though. You figured it all out.'

'John is rather brilliant… don't tell him I said that.' Sherlock took a sip of water, a small smile playing over his lips.

'You know I'm going to tell him.'

Sherlock mock scowled at Victor as they tucked into their food.

The two of them ate in the silence Victor had come to expect. Sherlock caught him smiling across the table at him, obviously soaking up the relaxing end to his day. When dinner was done they washed the dishes together. The one thing Victor had put his foot down about when he moved in.

As they settled on the sofa, Sherlock curled up against Victor and tucked his head against his chest. Victor wrapped his arm around Sherlock, turning on the television. Per usual, Sherlock ignored it, despite the captions and Victor caught up on the news of the day.

Sherlock grew bored and straddled Victor's lap, leaning into to kiss him slowly. He smiled as Victor responded to the kiss.

Victor's hands worked under Sherlock's shirt, drawing a small gasp from Sherlock at the contact. With a smile Victor scooped Sherlock up into his arms. He carried him into their bedroom, kissing and nipping at him as they went. When he got Sherlock to the bedroom, he set him on the side of the bed, fingers working over Sherlock's shirt.

Sherlock moaned when Victor scratched down his chest before pushing the shirt off his shoulders. He shivered and looked up at Victor. His fingers nimbly worked open the buttons of Victors shirt. Sherlock surged to his feet, kissing Victor again. He wrapped his arm around Victor's neck as he pressed close.

The two of them fell into bed, Sherlock arching into Victor's larger frame as his hands scrabbled at Victor's trousers. Victor kicked his shoes to the floor. Sherlock tipped his head back as Victor sucked up a mark on his collarbone. He sucked in a sharp breath at the small bite Victor left on him before succeeding in undoing Victor's trousers. A smile lit up his face as he felt Victor's laugh through his chest.

Victor stripped out of his trousers and pants before helping Sherlock with his. When the clothing hit the floor, he moved to kiss Sherlock again, only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. He looked down to see Sherlock pointing to his socks and shaking his head lips pursed in annoyance.

He kissed Sherlock and smiled against him before peeling out of the offending articles of clothing. With a roll of his hips, Victor slid them against one another, reveling in the groan it drew from Sherlock. He smiled as he kissed down Sherlock's chest and licked over his cock, pulling another moan from him. With a gentle tap he got Sherlock to spread his legs further. He reached up pulling a pillow down under Sherlock's hips to give him better access.

Sherlock's hands fisted in the blanket as Victor's tongue teased him, sliding lower until he was licking against Sherlock's core, moaning against him as he did. The vibration made Sherlock gasp as he concentrated on everything Victor was making him feel. His hips bucked slightly when Victor's tongue pressed against him, the tip entering and making him whimper.

Victor's hands held onto Sherlock's hips as he licked and fucked Sherlock with his tongue. He worked Sherlock until he felt him starting to loosen. With a grin he sat up and grabbed the lube from their nightstand.

As Victor pressed slicked fingers against Sherlock, Sherlock arched, moaning for him. He pressed down against Victor, eyes wide as he watched. Victor was always careful, whispering soft words of praise. Despite his inability to hear them, if he was watching, Sherlock could always tell when Victor was murmuring them and it made him happier than he could have explained.

Being worked open by Victor always drove Sherlock wild, and as slick fingers pressed against him, he became more vocal than he was at any other time. When Victor was through and started to slick himself, Sherlock stopped him with a hand on his chest. He urged Victor to the head of the bed and Victor grinned as he settled in to sit against the headboard.

Sherlock straddled Victor after working lube over him, delighting in the moans he pulled from Victor. He moved slowly as he guided himself onto Victor, head tipped back. His hands went to Victor's chest, pressing against him there while they kissed. When Victor rolled his hips seating himself fully in Sherlock, Sherlock nipped at his lower lip.

The vibrations against his hands from Victor's moans made Sherlock grin as he began to move. He loved watching Victor like this, seeing and feeling his name and curses drop from Victor's lips as he rose and fell on him. Sherlock enjoyed taking Victor as much as he enjoyed being taken… but this was the easiest way for him to feel all of Victor's sounds he made during sex.

They stole kisses from one another as Sherlock rode Victor, Victor's hands guiding Sherlock until he was meeting Sherlock thrust for thrust, feet planted firmly on the bed to aid in the movements. Sherlock kept one hand splayed on Victor's chest when he took himself in hand; the short breaths Victor was taking, and the stuttered movements of his hips telling Sherlock he was close.

Victor gasped and pulled Sherlock down on him fully as he came, body shuddering beneath him. It only took a few more strokes from his hand, and the familiar shape of his name on Victor's lips, before Sherlock was coming between them. A low, keening cry escaped him and Victor kissed him hard, hand closing around his, working him through his orgasm with a tenderness that nearly broke Sherlock apart all over again.

They panted, stealing kissed and touching one another while they came down. Sherlock smiled against Victor's lips. When he pulled back he bit his lip for a moment before cupping Victor's face. After a moment he pulled his hands away and signed as he spoke one of the few sentences he ever bothered to say aloud, "I love you, Victor."

Though he'd learnt to speak out of the challenge of doing it, Sherlock rarely bothered. If people wanted to communicate with him, they could make the effort to learn how to. It was a layer of protection he'd worn for years.

Victor kissed him softly and nuzzled along his jaw. He pulled Sherlock's hands back to his chest as he signed and spoke aloud, "I love you, Sherlock. You are my all."

Sherlock pressed their foreheads together for a few minutes, soaking up the afterglow. He eased out of Victor's lap and went to fetch them a cloth on shaky legs. After cleaning up in the bathroom, he came out and used the warm, damp cloth to clean Victor.

Victor slid down in the bed and opened his arms.

Sherlock tucked himself in against him and smirked as he asked, 'What... Not going to text John thank you?'

'You are a brat, Sherlock.'

With a grin, Sherlock tucked his head under Victor's chin as Victor turned off the light. He traced small patterns on Victor's skin until he was nodding off, grateful for how lucky he was.


End file.
